More Than Meets the Eye
by TwiTricksandTreats5
Summary: The truth was Bella Swan had gone through quite an eventful year. Could that be the cause of her anxiety, or was it something else? Standard Disclaimer: The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement is intended.


Title of Story: More Than Meets the Eye

Rating: R

Pairing: Bella and Edward

Genre: Horror/Suspence

Word Count: 5,554

Story Summary: The truth was Bella Swan had gone through quite an eventful year. Could that be the cause of her anxiety, or was it something else?

Standard Disclaimer: The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement is intended.

~Bella~

Hanging over every doorway in my apartment, strands of purple lights mix with the natural brightness of the room, bathing it in a warm, orange glow. The combination allowing just the right amount of illumination into each room, without having to fumble with the light switch.

My television plays a favorite horror movie of mine, the sound a low murmur to keep me company in my empty space.

Underneath the familiar voices is the constant soothing bubbling of my mini, mist maker, solitarily sitting in the plastic cauldron in the middle of my small, wood, dining table. A fine layer of haze surrounds the bowl, the wisps of vapor curling and whipping around the edges of the table and into the air. On the ceiling, colorful water effects flash, slowly easing my body into a state of relaxation.

Settling into the plush cushions of my father's old couch, my head rolls to face the television, my lips quirking at the band of three friends walking home together, teasing one another. I mouth the lines along with the actress, laughing afterward. Even if only for a moment, I'm just as self-assured as the character on the screen.

Before long, exhaustion from the long day of work, coupled with the joyous task of putting up my Halloween decorations, hits me hard. My body sags heavily into the cushions, the pillows conforming around me like a warm, lavish hug.

Sounds and sensations fade away as I drift to sleep, lost in a sea of numbing, peaceful black.

What seems like only seconds later, a muffled sound of metal scratching against metal enters my subconscious; the noise continues for a long moment before silencing itself, followed by muted thumps of footfalls on the carpet.

I smile and release a hum of contentment, snuggling down lower into the cushions.

I wasn't expecting Edward to come by tonight, knowing his workload has been jam-packed. However, I'm thrilled he's here.

Waiting patiently for him to make his presence known, I frown when I hear no other sounds besides the television and gentle bubbling of water.

Blinking rapidly to clear the heaviness from my eyes, I look around, my frown deepening when I see no one with me.

"Edward?" I call out, my voice hoarse.

Receiving no reply, I sigh deeply and huff a laugh, realizing I must have dreamt hearing someone come in. The longing for company hits me hard; something deep within my chest aches dully, but I push it away. It won't be like this forever, I know. Right now, there's so much going on in everyone's lives. Once things calm down, I know it will get better.

At my side, I shove my hand into the ceramic, wide-mouthed, pumpkin-shaped candy bowl and pull out a handful of candy. Chocolate makes everything better, and it's the perfect cure for what I'm feeling now. However, I can feel the cool glass of the bottom of the bowl, something that's _never _a good sign.

It's the week before Halloween, and this is the third bag I've gone through. I guess that's what happens when you only buy your favorites and can't resist their siren call.

Underneath the dulled, high pitched, screaming blaring through the low volume on the television, I detect a slow creak, whining through the air. My heart slams into my ribs, and my throat thickens, making swallowing nearly impossible. Jerking upward, I unintentionally knock the candy onto the floor with a gentle thump, its remaining contents spilling out in a colorful buffet of sweets.

Gazing around, I look for the source of the noise, which I'm thankful I can do from here because I don't think my tired and noodle-like legs can hold me up.

In my small, one-bedroom, one-bathroom apartment, it's easy to see well enough into every room from the center of the apartment, giving me a pretty good partial view of almost every room. The bathroom is somewhat difficult to see into, but with the door open and the huge mirror inside, it gives me a perfect view of my space.

My seated search comes up with nothing, and with the door having been locked since I arrived home earlier this evening, I doubt anyone is in here.

There aren't that many places for them to hide.

Rolling my eyes at my inane behavior, I pick up the candy bowl, relieved to find it in one piece.

Once it's safely on the coffee table, I scrounge together the wrappers, tossing them onto the table and the remaining candies into the bowl. As I do so, the skin on the back of my neck tightens, a prickling sensation slithering down my spine, causing my hands to shake.

Rubbing at the skin there, I force a laugh, hoping to squelch the unsettling sensation looming over me like a dark cloud.

Rising myself back onto the couch, my eyes drift upward before looking away, only to shoot back to where they were at what I see.

Through the orange light reflecting off the bathroom mirror, I spot a dark figure lurking behind the bathroom door, its head and shoulders completely visible.

Freezing, I choke on an inhale, the air turning frigid as the blood drains from my face. Every sound around me fades, and the only thing I'm able to hear is the furious pounding of my heart hammering away in my chest.

My eyes widen as the person standing in my bathroom brings a hand up, its long fingers curling around the edge, the hinges creaking as it pulls the door back.

_This _was the sound I had heard earlier.

Releasing a loud gasp, I jump up, scrambling for my phone. In my haste, I drop it twice while spitting curses through blurry eyes and tight lips. Racing for the door, I fumble with the locks and throw it open, slamming it behind me as I run down the steps, tripping slightly before making it all the way down.

My knee burns as the delicate skin scrapes against the unforgiving concrete, but I keep going, my eyes intent on my car sitting just feet away from me.

Once in my car, I belatedly realize I don't have my keys and slam my hands down on the steering wheel, wishing I kept a spare set in the car. My eyes drift back up to my apartment, watching for any signs of life. There are none, but there's no way in hell I'm going back.

In the passenger seat, my cell phone blares, and I scoop it up without a thought, answering the call.

"Hell-hello?"

"Hey, baby," my boyfriend greets, his voice tired and weary. "I thought I'd call while I'm on break. How are you?"

"Edward?"

His voice changes immediately, going from exhausted and lifeless to worried and concerned. "Bella? What's wrong? What happened?"

"I—" taking a breath, I swallow past the thickness in my throat and force out the words. "I saw someone in my apartment. In the bathroom."

In the background, I hear the rushing of wind through the speaker and the jingling of keys. Edward curses, as a loud bang of metal colliding with concrete, fills my ear. An indignant shout follows shortly after, their words reprimanding him for scratching the door. "Where are you now? Did you call the police?"

Even though he can't see me, I shake my head. "No. I ran out to my car."

"Okay, don't move ... I'll be there in a few minutes."

I'm silent as I wait for him, my hazy eyes trained on the windows, sliding glass door, and front door of my apartment. There's no movement from anywhere, and no signs of life, which terrifies me even more. What is this person doing in my apartment? What are they waiting for?

The possibilities are endless; after living with my father, who served as Police Chief for nearly thirty years, and watching the news every day, I know how depraved and deranged people can be. The thought of someone being in my apartment, hiding in the shadows, has me shivering violently.

What if I hadn't seen them? What would they or it have done?

My teeth rattle as I shiver once more, listening to Edward's nonstop cursing and horn blaring through the speaker. I feel a little relief at him coming, but what will happen once he gets here?

"Okay, I see your apartment. I'll be there in a few seconds."

Nodding, my gaze drifts over to the right, toward the driveway of the complex. Edward's dark, sapphire blue Honda comes screeching into the parking lot, the car haphazardly stopping near the curb. Fumbling with the door, I fall out of the car and into Edward's arms, clutching him tightly.

Holding me back just as tightly, soothing kisses on the side of my head have my eyes closing and a wave of relief soaring through me.

"I'm gonna go inside and check things out. You stay here and lock the doors. If I'm not back in five minutes, call the police."

Rapidly, I shake my head before he's even done. "No! You're not going in there."

"Bella, I'm going to take care of this," he replies, fierce determination and anger swimming in his features. "Stay here."

Stepping away, he marches back to his car, throwing open the door to the backseat and retrieving the aluminum bat he keeps there for emergencies. Gripping it tightly, he nods towards me, then to my car.

Once he sees I'm inside, he takes the steps two at a time, flinging the door to my apartment open with a forceful hand.

Just before the five-minute mark, Edward comes out, his face neutral and the bat resting casually on his shoulder. Shaking my head rapidly, I don't understand how he could exit with no one.

I _know _I saw someone in my apartment. There's no mistaking the head and shoulders I had seen hiding in the darkness.

He waves me out as his eyes meet mine through the windshield. Scrambling from the car, I rush up to him, confused, but anxious to hear what he found. My fingers twist and interlock, my sweaty palms sliding against one another as I watch Edward place the bat on the floorboard of his car.

Swinging the door shut, he blows out a breath and leans against it, his eyes trained in front of him.

"I didn't find anything," he tells me, his tone monotone. "No signs of any person being in there, or having been in there besides you."

The rigid set of his jaw and the sight of his clenched fists underneath his crossed arms tells me he's not at all pleased with me. Despite knowing what I saw and knowing I'm right, my face flushes with embarrassment.

"I saw someone," I insist, powering through the shakiness in my voice. "I saw someone hiding in my bath—"

Before I can finish, he's speaking, his tone harsh and irritated. "Where would they have gone, Bella? There's nowhere to hide in that small-ass apartment, and there's no way they could have left without you seeing them!"

Both of his arguments have validity; my apartment is too small and too cramped for someone to hide in. There's hardly any room for me and all of my things, let alone another person hiding. My closet can't even hold all my clothes and the boxes of holiday decorations stacked inside.

In addition, I _was _watching my apartment pretty closely and only took my eyes off of the doors for a moment, when Edward arrived. If this person did make their escape and I missed it, there's no way Edward would have.

Now, all I have to figure out is what the hell I did see. Was it just my eyes playing tricks on me, or was I dreaming?

"I'm sorry."

Edward scoffs, shoving a hand through his hair and pulling at the roots. "What was the purpose of this? Because we haven't spent a lot of time together? Because your family and friends moved away? Do you know how many traffic laws I broke getting here? Do you know I just up and left my brother in the middle of a busy evening? That business is everything to him, Bella, and he could lose it if I don't help him!"

This time, my face heats for a different reason. My head pounds in time with my heart, and at my sides, my hands curl into fists, the fingernails biting into the tender flesh as I attempt to keep the angry tears from falling.

A month ago, my parents retired to Florida, enjoying the warmer, sunnier weather as opposed to Washington's cloudy and chilly air. We've always been close, and it's been a difficult transition, having been used to them being a five-minute drive away whenever I wanted to spend time with them.

Now, I settle for bi-weekly phone calls while they get used to their new surroundings.

At the same time, two of my life-long friends recently got married weeks apart from one another and moved to different states with their husbands. I miss them terribly, but I don't begrudge them for their decisions. I would do the same thing too.

In addition to all of that, Edward has been working hard to help his brother, Emmett, at his automotive shop since two of his employees walked out without a word. They've been working overtime to keep up with the rush of customers.

It hasn't been easy since they've been basically working all day and well into the night while Emmett tries to find replacements. So far, no suitable candidate has come along, leaving them with all the work.

I'm not going to lie and say I haven't missed him. It's been tough only seeing my boyfriend of a year and a half every three or four days, and sporadically talking to him on the phone. During these past months, I can count the number of times we've had a date or spent time together on one hand.

While I miss him and everyone else terribly, I'm pissed he thinks I would stoop so low as to lie to get him over here. It makes me wonder if he really knows me at all.

"I said I was sorry, Edward. I saw some—I thought I saw someone," I amend. "I didn't do this for _attention,_" I continue, spitting out the words. "I didn't ask you to come over, you asshole. You did that all on your own … and you know what? You can leave that way, too."

Spinning around, I march around his car and up the stairs to my apartment, quickening my steps when I hear his heavy steps racing after me, followed by him calling my name. I want to get inside and give myself time to cool off before I talk to him again, and right now, I'm not ready to hear anything he has to say.

Edward's hand slides over my shoulder, gently halting me, and turning me around. I glare into his remorseful eyes, trying to squash down the feeling of worry as I note the dark circles there.

"I'm sorry," he starts, his voice quiet against the noise of traffic coming from the street. "I know you weren't lying. It's just … I'm tired and stressed. Em is taking his sweet time picking replacements when outstanding mechanics have come in to interview for the job. I'm just …"

"Tired," I finish for him.

He sighs, his head hanging down on his shoulders warily. "Yeah."

"You have to take care of yourself, too, you know. I know you want to help Emmett, but you can't ignore your health."

"I know." He pauses, scrubbing a hand over his face. After a moment of silent deliberation, he nods toward my apartment. "Would it be okay if I stay here with you tonight?"

The thought of going back to my apartment has me shivering. Apprehension slithers its way back up my spine, the image of the dark, shadowy mass of a person popping up in my mind's eye. Edward didn't find anything or anyone, and he's thorough when it comes to safety. So why am I so scared at the thought of going back inside.

Despite my fear, the thought of Edward being with me is a relief. Nodding, I turn and take comfort in the warmth coming from his body and step inside, immediately zeroing in on my bathroom. Holding my breath, I expect to see _something _still there, watching for me, waiting for my return, but there's nothing.

Hesitantly, I walk toward the bathroom, the lights turning on with a hurried flick of my wrist. The space isn't that big; there's hardly enough room to shut the door when someone is in it, thanks to the close proximity of the sink, toilet, and shower. Still, I look behind the door and in the shower, only spotting my towels hanging on the back of the door.

Could that have been what I had seen? In the vague light of my apartment, it's possible my eyes tricked me into thinking I had seen someone in my exhausted state.

Pushing the thought away, I take comfort that at least for tonight, I'm not alone.

Several nights later, I guardedly enter my apartment with careful steps, my eyes drifting over each surface and room. Since seeing the shadowy person in my bathroom, I've been on edge, jumping at every little sound and feeling eyes on me every second I'm here.

It's only when I'm at work that I feel any semblance of peace.

I've tried talking about this with Edward, but he brushes me off, citing my over-active imagination as the cause of my discomfort.

I'm starting to think he's right.

Maybe I _am_ too lonely and too exhausted; with the Halloween season looming closer, perhaps my spooky-loving mind has taken to playing tricks on me.

My search comes up empty, as I had hoped, and I laugh, loudly, briefly filling my silent and still apartment with life. Shaking my head and berating myself, I turn on my Halloween lights and mist maker, sighing contently at the comforting and familiar bubbling.

Once I'm changed into my cotton, black, and orange checkered sleep pants and black camisole, I throw my hair up into a bun. When the growling in my stomach can no longer be ignored, I head for the kitchen.

I opt for the quickest thing to cook, which also happens to be my favorite. Mac and cheese.

Once the gooey, cheesy goodness is done, I pour some into a bowl, my mouth starting to water at the golden delight.

With a steamy bowl in hand, I turn and promptly drop it, the glass exploding around my feet in a loud crash.

In the doorway of my bedroom stands a tall figure, its head, and shoulders clearly visible like before, only this time, I can see its eyes.

Strangely and unsettlingly, they seem to glow; a lackluster white against shadowy blackness that pumps my heart into overdrive. The longer I'm locked in a stare with this _thing, _the more uncomfortable and uneasy I feel.

A sharp icy sensation emanates from the center of my chest, spreading outward, its painful energy shocking me and causing me to stagger backward as a strangled scream leaves my throat. My back hits the wall behind me, pushing the air from my lungs in an excruciating gust that has me clutching at my heart.

A commotion from the front door is heard through my cries and gasping, but I can't move. I stay huddled on the floor, watching through teary eyes as Edward comes rushing in, his eyes widening when he sees me sitting amongst the glass and cheesy mess on my floor.

Reaching out for him, I grip his forearms tightly, not missing the wince as my fingernails bite into his skin.

"Are you all right? Where are you hurt?"

"N-no," I choke out, shaking my head. "N-not hurt. I saw it again, Edward. I saw the shadow … and its eyes—" I can say no more without sobbing into his chest, and I squeeze my eyes closed, but it's of no use; I can still see those haunting eyes in my memory.

Edward sighs heavily, his hold tightening on me momentarily before he lifts me, shifting me into his arms with ease. I protest immediately, but he silences me by placing a kiss on my forehead, gently shushing me as he lowers me onto the couch.

"It's all right. I'm gonna look around, and then we'll talk, okay?"

Nodding once in a jerky movement, I watch him as he searches my apartment, flicking on every light as he does so. Minutes later, the lights are off, and he comes to sit in front of me on the coffee table, resting his forearms on his knees.

Taking the moment to look at him, I realize he appears more tired than he did the last time I saw him, the purple-like shadows under his eyes deeper and darker. His complexion is pale, and his face is thinner, weighted down with fatigue, stress, and undoubtedly, worry.

Guilt eats away at me, but I reason with myself; I'm not doing this on purpose. I _am _seeing things. I know this now.

"I didn't find anything," he tells me quietly. "I looked everywhere. In the closet, under the bed, in the bathroom. There's nothing—no one."

"But—"

He shakes his head, effectively silencing me. "I'm going to clean your kitchen and get us some dinner. I'm staying here tonight. I have to be to work early tomorrow, and your place is closer."

Two hours later, I exit the shower, feeling drained.

My body feels weighty and weak, and the constant feeling of being on the verge of crying doesn't help matters.

I indulged myself while I stood under the spray of the water, freeing my sobs and allowing the flowing water to wash away my tears. I had hoped the sound of the shower would cover my cries, and since Edward didn't come racing in, I'd say I was successful.

The muffled murmurs of Edward's voice filters through the door, and I strain my ears in an effort to hear him.

"I don't know, Em. I don't know what to do for her. She still says she's seeing someone in her apartment. No, are you kidding? There's not enough room for her, let alone someone hiding. What good would calling the police do? They'll just come to the same conclusion I have. Yeah, I think she is, but I don't know how to help her. Yeah, I am, but it's not helping. What do I do? Okay, I will. Yeah, thanks. Bye."

My eyes burn from the conversation I overheard, the ache in my chest roaring to life as I sob into my hands.

I don't know how long I sit there, uselessly crying into my hands, but it's only when my body starts to protest the uncomfortable perch I've taken on the side of my tub that I move.

Swallowing down my tears, I push away the feeling and take controlled, measured breaths, hoping to calm myself. It works only slightly, but I do feel better.

After working a comb through my half-dried hair and quickly dressing, I join Edward in the living room, finding him sprawled out on the couch, asleep. His mouth hangs open as low snores release from his throat. A hand is draped across his chest and underneath his hand is an empty candy wrapper.

Reluctantly, a breathy, broken laugh escapes me at the sight, the scene too humorous _not _to laugh. Taking the purple and black fleece from the back of the couch, I toss it over him, shutting off the television. Unplugging all the lights except for one in the kitchen, I slowly head to my own bed. Each step closer to my room causes my skin to tighten uncomfortably, my body breaking out in a light sheen of sweat.

Feeling like I'm seven years-old again, I jump into bed and pull the covers up over my head, listening to the sound of my own, heavy breathing. Coupled with the heavy blankets resting on me, I'm lulled into a deep sleep within minutes.

Little by little, awareness comes creeping back, and I blink rapidly, clearing the sleepy fog still hanging on to me. For a moment, I'm severely confused as to what woke me and why a soft sheet is covering my face.

When the sleepiness fades, and everything comes rushing back, my breathing accelerates, and I squeeze my eyes closed, trying to ebb the feeling of panic shaking my limbs.

"Everything is okay. There's nothing to be afraid of," I murmur to myself, hoping the repeated mantra will bring a sense of calmness to me.

It doesn't.

The words die in my throat as I feel the heavy blankets resting on my thighs being slowly pulled away by a heavy hand dragging itself violently down my legs.

"Ed-Edward?"

I receive no response except a low, menacing chuckle, a sound I've never heard Edward make in all the time I've known him.

Scrambling up toward the headboard, my feet slip on the flat sheet, and I fall back more than once, my hands unable to keep me upright. My legs throb, but I ignore it, pushing myself up toward the front of the bed.

The wood headboard painfully presses into my back, my spine screaming as the uneven surface digs into the soft flesh and bone. Ignoring the pain, I peer through the darkness, looking for the cause of my alarm.

Slowly, I scan over the room starting at the door, where the faint light of the Halloween lights shines from the kitchen. Swallowing through the tightness in my throat, I force myself to look around, freezing when I see the distinct shape of a person crouched near the end of my bed, nearest the wall, poised near the small table there. Their eyes shine in a hazy white, the pupils dark as the night. A painful biting chill spreads throughout my body, and I shiver violently, the headboard banging against the wall.

My mouth opens to scream, but no sound comes out except a small squeak. Beads of sweat roll down my face, falling down my cheeks like tears. My hands grasp the blankets around me in a white-knuckled grip, my nails scratching and stretching the fabric.

At the sound of my attempted scream, the figure near the bed slowly tilts its head to the right. Even though the light isn't very bright, I can clearly see the ear-to-ear smile it's sporting as it takes in my discomfort.

A broken, disjointed chuckle meets my ears, and finally, I find my voice, screaming as loud as I can as I clamber out of bed, running into the living room.

Edward jumps up at my scream, his eyes wide and hands curled into fists as he looks around for the danger.

"What? What is it?"

"I know I'm not crazy," I hiss. "It's in my room, at the foot of my bed."

He looks disbelieving and annoyed, shoving his hand in his hair and pulling at the roots.

"Go look if you don't believe me," I tell him, ignoring the quiver in my voice.

"Okay," he says, holding his hands up in surrender. "Okay. Wait here."

A minute later, Edward calls me back, standing in the middle of the brightly lit room, his eyebrows high on his forehead as he pointedly gazes around. His eyebrows are high on his forehead, his lips pursed in annoyance.

Shaking my head, I point to the end of the bed. "No. No! There was someone sitting there. I _swear. _They had hazy white eyes and a huge mouth."

"You saw the table and the laundry, Bella," he replies, waving dismissively at the stack of unfolded clothes waiting to be put away.

"No, that's not what I saw."

Edward's arms extend from his sides, waving around. "Where could they have gone, Bella? Huh? Where?" Tearing open the closet door, he impatiently brushes aside the clothes hanging and bangs his hands on the boxes stacked within. "There's no way someone could hide in here." Marching back out, he leans down to look under my bed, waving once more. "There's no room under here either. So where could they go without one of us seeing them?"

"I don't know," I retort, trying to keep my tone strong, but it's failing quickly. "I just know that I saw them."

After a long moment of heavy silence, Edward sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I think you were just dreaming."

I shake my head, knowing I wasn't dreaming or seeing things this time. I was fully awake and alert. I know what I saw.

"No—"

"Bella, there's no one here," he argues, breathing deeply through his nose. "Unless they're a ghost, there's no one else in this apartment but the two of us."

My eyes widen at the suggestion, never considering the possibility. Could this apartment be haunted? I _did _get it for a really low rent rate, and I can't help but wonder, is _this _why?

Sensing the path of my thoughts, Edward rolls his eyes, muttering under his breath. "There's no such thing as ghosts," he tells me. "I think all of this is stress-related; your parents just moved across the country, your friends moved with their new husbands, work hasn't been easy for you, we haven't spent as much time together as we should be … just let it go and let's try to get some sleep, okay?"

Holding a hand out, he beckons me toward him, his eyes full of pleading and love. I doubt I'll be able to sleep with everything that's happened tonight, but doing anything else other than laying down with Edward is out of the question. He'll just nag me until I comply.

A part of me wants to fight him on this, to try to get him to believe me, but he's just as stubborn as I am, if not more so.

Besides, I'm too tired and worn out to get into a full-fledged dispute with him tonight. I'll definitely need more rest before that happens.

A little annoyed, I repress the arguments simmering on my tongue and slide my hand into his. Following him in between the cool sheets, I settle into the mattress, but I'm immediately pulled into his side. His lips press against my forehead, moving as he silently speaks before kissing me, lingering there for a moment.

Unbidden, I close my eyes at the familiar comfort, my aggravation fading just slightly at the action. There are a thousand things I want to say at this moment, but I'm afraid they'll all come out too harsh and prompt a fight.

Not wanting to do that right now, I keep my mouth shut and settle into the bed, watching with trepidation as he blindly reaches for the lamp on my nightstand. My hand shoots out, covering his forearm, my nails slightly digging into the flesh there.

"Leave it on. Please."

"I can't sleep with the light on. It'll be okay."

The click of the light shutting off is loud in the quiet of my apartment, making me flinch. In response, Edward gently rubs my shoulder, the action decreasing slowly until it stops altogether as he falls asleep.

I stay awake for hours, paranoid. Nervously, I glance at everything in my room. Even the sounds of traffic outside have me immobilized in fear.

Around three in the morning, I open my eyes as my stiff body screams at me to move, uncomfortable at being in the same position for hours. Belatedly, I realize I must have dozed off, though it wasn't for long.

Shifting into a more comfortable position, I freeze as I catch sight of the figure peering up over the edge of my bed, its glowing eyes peering into mine with malicious intent.

Unnaturally, its body and limbs twitch and jerk as its hands slowly slide over the top of the bed, grasping at the blankets and pulling them slightly as it maneuvers itself up on the bed. It twitches and shakes as it kneels over us, poised on all fours, its head twisting at odd angles as it stares.

Swallowing thickly and not taking my eyes off of it as I slowly slide my arm toward Edward's chest, tightly grasping the fabric there and pressing my knuckles deeply into his flesh.

"Edward?" I whisper into the darkness, afraid to speak any louder.

A second later, he replies. "I'm here, Bella."

"Do you … do you see it?" I choke out, blinking back the tears that blur my vision as it continues to crawl closer.

For a moment, I think he's fallen asleep again, but the subtle shift of his hand tightly grasping my back has me thinking otherwise. When he speaks, his voice is no louder than a strained whisper, the fear in it matching mine perfectly. He only says one word, but it's enough to bring me relief and scare me to death all at once.

"Yes."


End file.
